Obitine Week 2018
by ii Digestive Reader ii
Summary: Prompts from Obitine Week 2018 on Tumblr - my first time participating can:) Enjoy short, sweet moments between these characters, (some sads too), and a few appearances by various fan-favorites.
1. Regret

**Day 1. Regret (September 24th) Anything Obi-Wan or Satine may have regretted or anything else related to both the feeling of regret and Obitine.**

* * *

Obi-Wan glances between the young prince and the Duchess, and feels his shoulders sink ever so slowly while the chaotic thoughts click into place. "Satine."

She is slow to glance at him, but when she does, her gray-blue eyes are sad. All she can offer him a gentle raise of her eyebrows.

"Why...why didn't you tell me?"

"You...had responsibilities elsewhere. Your plans for the Jedi...the Council - I didn't wish to be the person to take that away from you."

"That doesn't - _Satine."_ There's anguish in his voice.

Satine sighs, and taking his wrist, gently leads him into a darkened corner of the ballroom, weaving between senators and members of the Jedi Order. Her skirts swish quietly, a sharp contrast to the thoughts clamoring in her mind and the chattering around them. She knew it would be impossible to keep such a secret from him forever…

(Unbeknownst to them, Anakin is watching from the other side of the room, brow creasing in concern. He never does get a chance to say anything about the matter - his wife tugs him to the dancefloor, and he forgets about the interaction between Duchess and General.)

She just had to bring Korkie to Coruscant for a ball, and she just had to begin sharing her bed with Obi-Wan once again.

"Satine." Obi-Wan grasps her forearms gently, a silent plea to look at him. He looks far too old and stiff in his formal robes and bits of gray at his temples.

"What could you have done, Obi? Stayed on Mandalore? Be a Jedi consort to a pacifist Mandalorian Duchess?"

"I could have watched my _son...grow up."_ The word feels strange on his tongue. He gestures to ballroom, where Korkie is joking around with Ahsoka, completely unawares of what's happening. "I should have _been there."_

"I…" Satine puts a hand to his cheek, feeling the rough whiskers, remembering how strange it felt to kiss him again, to feel the hair scratch at her skin in the bed chambers of the Coronet.

How odd it had been when he escorted her back to Sundari, and had met Korkie for the first time.

To watch for months while he tried to put the pieces together, and came to the inevitable conclusion they are now facing.

"Does...he know? That we're-"

"No." Satine watches him pace away, running a hand over his beard in frustration. She feels...calm. Such an odd feeling, right now.

"I should have stayed."

"Perhaps," Satine agrees, catching his hand and making him stand before her. Sad blue eyes stare back at her, desperate to change the past, to wipe away every regret. "But it was the right decision for the time."

"For the time," Obi-Wan murmurs before kissing her, pulling her as close as he can in the shadows. "There's never enough time."

* * *

 _Authors note: I feel like a horrible fanfic author for not having this up yesterday - but now it's here now - ENJOY!_

 _Enjoy some feels - I'll have today's prompt up by tonight :D_

 _Check out the rest of the stuff my fellow authors/artists are doing over on Tumblr at "Obitine Week"_

 _Enjoy chapter enjoy the cinnamon rolls! Whooo!_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


	2. What Could Have Been

**Day 2 (September 25th) What Could Have Been- Also known as the AU prompt. Any story that doesn't quite fit into what we know of canon. Whether it's Star Wars setting and simply different choices were made or whether it's a completely different universe, anything goes.**

* * *

" _Happy I stayed?" Obi-Wan murmurs between lazy kisses down her torso. He doesn't wait for an answer, nor does he exactly expect one. He has his answer, judging by the rings on their fingers and the wedding vows they had exchanged only hours ago._

" _That's certainly one word for it," she murmurs. Her hands grip the sheets and a gasp escaping her mouth when he moves lower and presses his lips in_ that _spot. "Goddesses, Ben-"_

" _Hmm?" He glances up at her, all mischief eyes and a smug smile on his face._

 _Satine gives a breathless laugh, wondering how much of a fool she could have been._

* * *

"You still think of her, don't you?"

The question comes as a surprise. Obi-Wan pauses mid-drink, staring at his long time friend and sometimes bed partner. "Beg pardon?"

Siri shakes her head, looking past him, raising a hand in greeting to their friends that have just entered the bar. "Nevermind."

* * *

" _Duke Benjamin."_

 _Obi-Wan turns in the grand halls of Sundari, raising his eyebrows at the Prime Minister. Really, he detested the man. There is something not quite right about him._

 _Perhaps Satine would be willing to do a quiet investigation - find out if there's any dirt on him. Get him removed from office._

" _Prime Minister Almec - what can I do for you?"_

* * *

"Almec was the traitor?"

Satine shakes her head, the action causing the hologram to glitch momentarily. "Evidently so, Ben. I don't know who to trust anymore."

"You can trust me." Obi-Wan smiles at her sad laugh, using his foot to move the office chair side-to-side ever so slightly. "Korkie. Ahsoka. Senator Amidala. Anakin-"

"I meant my own government, my dear."

"We can only hope that will change soon enough."

"The question remains - will it change for better or worse?"

* * *

" _Can this get any worse?" Satine moans, leaning her brow against the cool surface of the sani._

 _All she gets is a hum in reply, and raises her head a fraction, where Obi-Wan leans against the sink, a mixture of sympathy and bemusement on his face._

 _He offers a small smile, and scratches at the scruff he had begun to grow. Though Satine is loathe to admit it, he does look quite good with it - and the roughness of the whiskers make certain aspects of lovemaking a bit more pleasurable._

" _Your fault."_

 _Obi-Wan holds his hands up in mock surrender. "I do apologise, my lady - but I do seem to remember you were quite responsive to my ministrations. Repeatedly."_

" _Oh hush."_

* * *

He stands on the ship docks, cloak whipping around him, hair short and jaw stubbled, staring at the ground.

Satine approaches him, ready to yell out all the weeks of pain, to make him understand all the relationships and friendships he has fractured upon faking his death...she nearly does too.

Obi-Wan catches her eye, and - grasping one hand - sinks down to his knees, head bowed over her hand. "Ni ceta, cyar'ika. Ni ceta."

She nearly jerks her hand back in surprise - the man she loves is kneeling before her, alive and well, expressing the deepest apology a Mandalorian can offer - and he's not even Mandalorian. Tears well in her eyes, and she falls to the cement docks, allowing herself to be tugged into his arms.

"I love you."

"I know."

* * *

" _Master Jedi."_

" _Your Grace."_

 _They regard each other for a moment, serious and quiet - at least until the little girl clinging to Obi-Wan's leg cocks her head of auburn hair._

" _How tall are you?"_

" _Freya," Obi-Wan chides gently, putting his hand on the back of her head. "Be nice."_

" _Mama says to always ask questions - it's how we learn."_

 _Qui-Gon gives a great laugh, and kneels to the little girl's height. "You're quite the Negotiator, aren't you?"_

" _She managed to wheedle extra dessert from the baker last night."_

" _Ah karma." Qui-Gon shakes her little hand when she offers it, and turns his head at the approaching footsteps. "Obi-Wan - may I present my apprentice Anakin Skywalker? I have a feeling you two will be best of friends by the time our sojourn to Mandalore is completed."_

* * *

Satine can feel everyone's eyes on her, the greediness of her enemies - but she's only focused on him, the way his fingers are trying to press against the wound, trying to staunch the bloodflow, tears glistening in his eyes, an apology on his lips.

She reaches up a shaky hand to his cheek, trying to smile, feeling his hand gently cover hers, leaning into her touch. It's such an intimate moment, one she will never experience again.

"Remember, my dear Obi-Wan...I've loved you always. I...always will."

* * *

Mando'a vocabulary

Ni ceta - deepest apology a Mandalorian can offer, used sparingly

Cyar'ika - beloved

* * *

 _Author's note: well...the italics are in a different universe...I tried, okay?!_

 _I tried to make this a happy chapter - I really did! (I failed epically.)_

 _Oh well - maybe in one of these chapters I'll do a happy fic :D_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


	3. Young Love

**Day 3. Young Love (September 26th) Ah, young dumb teens (or young adults depending on your head canon of the famous Mandalore mission) in love! Young love is sweet, often annoying, and especially with these two, likely to be a drama fest! Time to use your headcanons and make these two crazy kids fall in love or have a good time.**

* * *

"Gar're a dinui."

"Gar're a dia."

"Dinui, Obi-Wan!"

"That's what I said!"

Satine laughs, putting her head in her hands for a moment. "That's not you said."

"Well what did I say?" Obi-Wan asks indignantly, turning his gaze from the star-filled sky to the Duchess. He feels himself smiling at her mirth, the twinkle in her eyes when she glances up. Thank goodness the fire was low and the day had faded to near-black - she would have seen the blush staining his cheeks otherwise.

"You called me a goddess."

 _Oh._ Swallowing hard, he tries to think of a good response. "Is that so hard from the truth, my lady?"

That gets a loud snort from Qui-Gon, who had stayed largely quiet during the language lesson. He glances up from the small notebook he had been doodling in, bushy eyebrows raised in bemusement. "Mando'a's a gender-neutral language, my young padawan. You have to be rather explicit in your word choice to say something like 'goddess.'"

"I don't think anyone would ever call me a goddess," Satine mutters, a trace of sadness in her voice despite the roll of her eyes.

"No?" Obi-Wan murmuers, forcing himself to stare at the fire and not the beauty beside him.

"My people rather detest me." She makes a show of standing and looking around their surroundings before forcing a grin. "Clearly."

"Surely not all of them? I don't - and I'm not even Mandalorian."

Qui-Gon watches the exchange with interest. He knows his twenty-something padawan has to make a choice by the end of this mission - he only hopes Obi-Wan makes the right choice. But regardless of these thoughts, he says, "You two certainly don't seem to remember our first few weeks together - I never thought my migraine from all your bickering would end."

"We came to a compromise," Satine says smoothly, crossing her arms over her chest in a gesture meant to be haughty.

"Oh?"

"Sharing our cultures is an excellent way to defuse any argument about differing world views. Now if you excuse me - I'll be abed."

Qui-Gon doesn't respond - he can understand euphemisms. He nods goodnight, watching the quick brush of the Duchess' fingers against Obi-Wan's arm before she heads into the tent. Tapping his fingers against the notebook, he says quietly, "I'm planning on doing a scouting mission for a few days - I believe I'll leave tomorrow."

"Oh?"

"Mmm...you two can share your cultures to your heart's content."

Whatever the outcome of this mission, the indignant spluttering Qui-Gon receives makes all the arguing he has endured worth it.

* * *

Mando'a phrase(s): Gar're a dinui - You are a gift

Dia - Latin for goddess

* * *

 _Author's note: i combined some a Latin phrase (butchered conjugation, I know) and some Mando'a for Obitine's discussion_

 _Enjoy some squishy feels :D_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


	4. DreamsNightmares

**Day 4: Dreams/Nightmares (September 27th) Pretty vague, open to interpretation. Can of course go either fluffy or angsty with this one. Something to do with the strange things our brains do when we're sleeping.**

* * *

The sound of rain and wind and thunder jolts her awake. The sounds of nature is not something she is familiar with - Sundari has its biodomes, Coruscant its cellular controlled atmosphere, and she typically doesn't travel to various planets during their rainy season.

But Naboo is a largely temperate planet, and the weather is always a bit unpredictable.

She lays down again, a hand squeezing her hip and a kiss being pressed to the back of her neck.

"Incoming," Obi-Wan mumbles, voice hoarse.

"Mmm?"

The door whooshes open before she can question him further, bare feet padding on the floor and the bedframe creaking under the small change in weight.

"Freya," Satine murmers gently, propping herself up with an elbow. "Did the storm scare you?"

Their little daughter - auburn hair, blue eyes, small smattering of freckles, clutching a plush Tooka - sits cross-legged between them and nods. "I don't like it."

"It's nothing to be scared of."

"Can't they turn it off?"

Obi-Wan smiles, opening his eyes to look at Freya. "Then how would the plants grow?"

"I dunno - the -" Freya stops when a bit of thunder shakes the foundations of their rental home, and hugs her plush Tooka tight.

"Come here," Satine whispers, beckoning her daughter close. "You can sleep here for tonight."

Was it just Satine, or did the Tooka plush blink at her when Freya laid down between them? She stares at the plush, watching it's amber eyes warily.

It most definitely blinks, making a small chirping sound too.

"Satine?" Obi-Wan asks in concern.

* * *

"Satine?"

Satine - unwillingly, painfully - flutters open her eyes, being greeted by a friendly chirp. She glanced at her Tooka kitten, then outside, where a Nubian storm raged outside, and finally to her bed partner, whom was leaning over her, a gentle hand on her hip.

"Hmm?"

Obi-Wan frowns, studying her a moment before scratching the Tooka kitten, who was pawing at his hand for attention. "You were mumbling in your sleep."

"I was?"

"Did you have a bad dream?" He asks, reaching for the under-tunic he had draped at the foot of the bed. Right. He was leaving that evening, heading back to Coruscant, where he would fufill the role of a Jedi master once again.

Obi-Wan glances over when she doesn't respond, the corners of his lips turning up when he catches her staring. "Yes?"

She doesn't tell him about the dream - she knows it will only upset him, and sadness is something neither of them wish for anymore. Scratching her kitten behind the ears she murmurs, "Just thinking what a shame it is to cover such a body in so many robes."

He shakes his head and laughs, reaching for his outer tunic. "I'll say the same to you, my dear."

* * *

 _Author's note: geez I like the sads. Why do I like the sads so much?!_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


	5. Friends and Family

**Day 5 - Family/Friends (September 28th) Bring in the whole gang with this one! Padmé, Anakin, Bo-Katan, Korkie, Qui-Gon, anyone you want! Any of them or only one of those people. What do they know of this relationship, if anything? And what do they think about it?**

* * *

There were times, over the years, that the Duchess Satine would falter her words, and mention - on rare occasions, probably after one too many martinis - someone named Ben.

Sometimes, she would even say "Korkie's father" or "Korkie's father Ben."

Which was strange, when one considered the small smile on Satine's face every time she said it.

It made Padmé wonder who exactly this Ben was.

Ben was a bed-partner of sorts, Padmé gathered once she grew older, and the age difference between them mattered little. (Their respective occupations certainly bridged any gap between them.) Maybe Ben was a life-partner. She never did pry - her friend was a remarkably private person, and so was she.

Obviously. A person who didn't like privacy would not marry a Jedi.

But being married and bedding a friend are two vastly different ideas.

"Ben," Satine what has just murmured flippantly, seemingly unawares of the people around the dinner table. It was a chide really, that caused the receipt to grin ruefully into his wine glass.

 _Ben_.

 _To Obi-Wan Kenobi._

Padmé glances over at Anakin, whom is busy talking to Breha Organa. About what she didn't know what they were discussing - probably some Alderiann opera that was playing on Coruscant.

Anakin hadn't noticed the Duchess' slip of the tongue.

"Senator?"

Padmé looks to two of her oldest friends and forces a smile. "Pardon?"

Obi-Wan smiles good-naturedly. "I asked if you were feeling okay - you are rather quiet."

"Oh?" Padmé gestures around the full banquet hall, trying and failing to remember what the purpose of the dinner. A charity maybe? That's what it is, right. A charity to raise money for the impoverished and low-income schools of Coruscant. "I'm busy people watching. Fascinating, what you can discover about politicians who've had a bit too much to drink."

"I would say the same about Jedi," Satine says smoothly, keeping her eyes on the busboys that had begun weaving through the tables and setting down dishes of food. "They can have remarkably loose tongues."

"Ah, but the trick is what that tongue says," Obi-Wan murmurs, eyebrows raised and a smile on his face. "Will it cause pleasure or pain?"

 _Life-partner's,_ Padmé decides when the Duchess gave a hard snort and began laughing _. Definitely life-partner's._

* * *

"Senator Amidala - you have a visitor."

Padmé glances up from her desk, expecting to see her husband behind the handmaid and startled, though not entirely surprised, to discover it was someone else.

"Thank you, Dormé."

The handmaid nods and leaves, and for a moment it's painfully quiet in the Nubian embassy office.

Obi-Wan...well, he looks like shit. His eyes are bloodshot, his face grim, his robes wrinkled and creased. Judging by the way his hands shake - and his smell - when she stands and embraces him, he has been drinking quite heavily.

Probably for hours.

"I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan." Padmé murmurs, keeping her hands on his elbows for a moment. "I heard what happened."

"Well...thank you Padmé." Obi-Wan gratefully sits on the chair she indicates to, scrubbing a hand over his beard.

Padmé didn't pry for the details - she had read over the report Obi-Wan had been forced to submit to the Senate regarding Mandalore's fall. She had cried well the night once she had read it, not wanting to register that one of her dearest friends was gone.

"Anakin tells me you crashed the Twilight."

Obi-Wan glances over, a bit startled by her words. "He told you?"

 _He told me you went against Council Orders. That you were assigned to Temple duty as punishment for heading to Mandalore. That you refused to visit a mind healer and wake screaming at night._

 _I figured everything else out._

Padmé pulls a small smile, knowing she's coming dangerously close to revealing the secret she has guarded for nearly three years. But, she figures, she can make an exception today, when they're both grieving. "Anakin tells me most things."

He lets out a strained chuckle, looking to the window. "Benefits of having a partner, mmm?"

* * *

 _Author's note: I really love the friendship between Obi-Wan and Padmé. It's so wonderful and I wish it had been explored more (and the deleted scene in RotS hadn't been cut). Hopefully we'll get a comic about the two of them going and saving Anakin's ass someday xD_

 _But regardless - I like to think Obi-Wan went to Padmé once Satine had died because A) Satine and Padmé were friends B) He wanted to mourn for a moment, without judgement_

 _Well anyway - enjoy this chapter! Tell me if you like it or not! :D_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


	6. Numbers

**Day 6. Numbers (September 26th) Any event they experienced that is significant because of the number of times it has happened. Maybe it's never! A first kiss, a first date, a first time. Or maybe it's a second chance to make things work! Hey you could do anything with numbers and it will count! You want to make them celebrate their tenth anniversary? It will count.**

* * *

Three words.

That's it.

That's all it took, in this universe.

Three words and two pleas, spoken at times of significance.

Three words started a chain reaction, spoken - whispered really, half-moaned - between hurried kisses and blunt, exploratory fingers. They didn't have much time alone, not then.

Looking back, Satine wonders who murmured it first. Herself, while her nails dug into his shoulders and she bit her tongue to keep from moaning? Him, while he kept a careful rhythm, his limited sexual experience even more limited by the heavy cloak they were under?

They stared at each other in the dimness of the tent, frozen in shock, not quite knowing what to do.

Obi-Wan looked down at her before smiling and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

"I love you."

* * *

Satine didn't ask him to stay. But from the way she clung to him in their final night, in the Sundari bedchamber, he inferred the request. He held her close, staring at the ceiling, listening to her breathing and knowing he would never be able to sleep without her again.

He did slip out before dawn, bare feet on the cold floors, careful to avoid any debris that had not yet been swept up.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon greeted quietly on one of the many balconies, staring out at the biodome, where the beginnings of the day were struggling to shine through the glass.

"Master."

"I believe 'Qui-Gon' is more appropriate now."

"Your Grace will be my official title." Obi-Wan met the exasperated look of the Jedi master and offered a small smile.

Qui-Gon shook his head and laid a large hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Where am I going to find another little shit like you?"

"I'm sure you'll fine one, old man. You're terribly good at attracting strays."

* * *

"This is a bad idea."

"Well I never claimed it to be a good idea, my dear."

Satine sighed, dropping the datapad on the desk and massaging her temples. "You're asking me to raise a child I have never met-"

"Well by that logic pregnancy seems rather strange," Obi-Wan murmured, turning from the study window and gesturing at her swelled stomach. "Sweetheart...we have your nephew in our care, a daughter in May...taking in this Anakin boy...it seems like the right thing to do. I have a good feeling about it."

"Some Force instinct?" Satine grumbled. She cracked open her eyes when she felt her husband kneel beside her and gently lean his head against her stomach.

"Please, Satine...I would not be asking you this if I didn't love you - if I didn't believe you would take care of this child. I don't want Anakin to grow up among the Jedi...not after what Bant and Quinlan tell me he's been through."

"My people will view me as a Jedi broodmare."

"Or a woman who has it in her heart to look past prejudices and raise a boy the Jedi Order has denied."

Satine sighed, peering at him through her lashes. "We're finding the boy's mother - Anakin needs a mother, and I need a nursemaid."

Obi-Wan grinned for the first time since he had been told of his old master's death and stood just enough to press a kiss to her lips. " _Force,_ I love you."

* * *

 _Author's note: 2nd to last day - eek, so exciting!_

 _There, there's the happy AU oneshot I've been depriving you guys of. Enjoy :D_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


	7. Free day: Sharpshooter

**Day 7. Free Day. (September 30th) It's free day! Write anything you want! If it makes you happy it's fair game!**

* * *

"A lightsaber is a more civilized weapon."

"But it's still a weapon."

"Says the woman who has one hanging from her belt."

"Even a pacifist needs to defend herself."

"Oh isn't that contradictory?"

Qui-Gon sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face, not entirely surprised to be waking up to the Duchess and his padawan bickering. It had been weeks since their mission began, and he wondered when it would possibly end. The pair argued worse than the Jedi Council ever did - and he half-wondered if or when they would become civil towards each other.

"Do you even _know_ how to use a blaster, Obi-Wan?!"

"How the hell does a New Mandalorian know how to use when?"

"I'm Mandalorian! That's why!"

Groaning, Qui-Gon rolled over on the pallet and pulled his cloak further over his head.

It was going to be a long mission.

* * *

"It's a blaster wound, Obi-Wan - not a stab to the stomach. I'm fine." Even while he said it, Qui-Gon winced at the throbbing pain in his arm.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, continuing to dab at the singed skin in the cave fire's dim light. "We ran out of bacta - we'll have to head into a town to have someone look at it."

Satine - wrapped up in a cloak beside the fire - gave a small snort. "And risk someone recognizing me?"

"It's a chance we'll have to take, Duchess - unless you want us to leave you here to be found by the Insurgents and tor-"

"Stop it, both of you," Qui-Gon whispered in exhaustion, though his plea fell on deaf ears.

"This wouldn't have happened if you weren't such a lazy shot," Satine sniffed, crossing her arms. "What's the use of shooting a blaster if you can't hit your target?"

"Then I guess I'll have to learn," Obi-Wan snapped back. "From somewhere other than _you."_

* * *

"Tuck your elbow in - it's not a lightsaber, you can't adapt or change positions as easily."

"Then how come you can?"

"Eyes on the scope, Ben. Just squeeze the trigger."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, carefully aiming at his target - a bit of flimsi tacked to a tree - and fired. The bolt singed the side of the flimsi and hit a nearby tree.

He looked over at Satine, who was standing beside him, blonde hair hanging in a braid and face tan from their months of running. "Better?"

"Well you could do better."

He raised his eyebrows. "How? I followed-"

Satine shook her head, and stepped behind him gently rearrange his stance. _(She was not blushing - nope nope nope. It was warm out. Attracted to a Jedi - to Obi-Wan Kenobi - yeah right.)_ "I told you to tuck your elbow in - and your feet don't need to be so spread out. Loosen up your shoulders too - you need to absorb the recoil."

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, trying to convince himself the clamminess of his hands was actually sweat, and the her breath on his neck wasn't distracting at all. Rolling his shoulders, he aimed carefully at the flimsi and fired again.

The blaster shot went clean through the flimsi, making a satisfying ripping noise and thunking into the tree.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Satine teased, pressing a kiss to her cheek before registering what she had done. Her eyes widened, and she made to step back, about to stammer an apology.

He dropped the blaster on the forest floor, ignoring the Jedi training in him telling him it was a bad idea and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

* * *

"Oh please - _Obi-Wan_ a sharpshooter? That's ridiculous."

"I must say, I'm having a hard time believing you, Your Grace."

Satine shrugged, sipping at her drink and ignoring the exasperated stare she's receiving from her lover. "Oh yes - he used to enter shooting competitions when we were on the run - for money, of course. He still holds the record on a few planets in the Mandalore system."

"Satine," Obi-Wan ground out. He wasn't entirely annoyed with her, per-say, but rather annoyed at the gleeful expressions on the respective faces of his Clone Commander and former padawan. "This is supposed to be a debriefing about the attack on the Coronet."

She waved her hand, looking much too pleased with herself. "I just wanted to make them understand why you were so capable at shooting a blaster."

Anakin leaned back in his seat, glancing around the Duchess' private chambers about the Coronet before grinning at his master. "You're not denying your capabilities, Master."

"You should show them, Ben."

 _"Ben?"_ Cody muttered to Anakin, both of whom chuckled quietly.

Obi-Wan gave the Duchess a glare. "Show my men what, Your Grace?"

"Your skills, of course." Satine smirked, looking over the rim of her glass while she took another sip. "You always manage to make your target."

* * *

 _Author's note: Annnd Obitine week is over! Enjoy this chapter, which was inspired by_ legobiwan _headcanons over on Tumblr - much thanks, my friend! :D_

 _Tell me what you guys think? Did you enjoy this week? Was there some story you wanted me to write and didn't?_

 _Kisses!_

 _ii Digestive Reader ii_


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